


As the World Falls Down

by EvilMuffins



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Ballroom Dancing, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Nightmares, Tsukikane Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2018-03-04 15:32:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3073085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvilMuffins/pseuds/EvilMuffins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I'll be there for you, as the world falls down...</p>
            </blockquote>





	As the World Falls Down

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Tsukikane Week's 'Re:' prompt.
> 
> The title was formerly 'Calyptra', but it had been bothering me for a while.
> 
> Rize's mask is based on a species of vampiric moth by that name.

The clusters of glittering chandeliers appeared to reach on forever, the soft lighting passing through the crystals creating a kaleidoscopic effect of tiny rainbows on their surface .

“And who would you be, sir?” A person appearing to be a somewhat slight man in a tuxedo was speaking to him, holding what appeared to be a checklist of some sort.

The young newcomer opened his mouth to respond, but found his attention wrested by the sight of a mirrored wall at the back of the large, sumptuously styled room.

A man wearing a black mask, zippered at the mouth, stared back at him through a single exposed eye. The man’s snow white hair was in stark contrast with the mask, a splash of milk in a cup of coffee.

A man and a woman, one couple among many in what must have been some sort of ballroom, waltzed between him and the mirrored wall, breaking his trance. The woman’s black dress fluttered around her feet as she twirled, like a strange bird that had just hit the ground after colliding with a glass window.

“I…I don’t know…” He finally replied, focus returning to the man with the clipboard.

A second couple glided across the floor, spinning so close as to nearly collide with the confused young man. The female of the pair snickered and the male dancer soon caught onto the joke letting out a whoop of his own.

“He doesn’t know who he is!” the woman shrieked to the butler holding the guest list.

“Would you just look at him! He doesn’t even have a mask! His face is as naked as a baby’s!” the male dancer howled.

It was true- taking a glance around the room, there was not a single bare face to be seen on any of the throng of twirling revelers. How he hadn’t noticed until now, he had no idea. The masks came in a variety of different themes and colors, some whimsical, some terrifying and others still an unsettling mix of both. Even though this seemed to be nothing but a typical masquerade ball, the masks put him ill at ease of those worn by ghouls, sending a shiver down his spine.

He touched his fingertips to his own face. Though the reflection in the mirror had been clad in a mask, he found that what his hecklers had said was true, as he was met with nothing but bare skin.

Soon, a different couple on the far side of the room responded to the cackling with sounds of their own, like bullfrogs calling to each other across the swap. The cacophony continued to spread until the entire room was in an uproar, all eyes on him.

“In that case, sir, I’m afraid that I’m going to have to ask you leave,” the violet-haired butler stated curtly from behind their own mask.

“There will be no need for that! The monsieur is with me!”

A purple-haired man, wearing a half moon mask, took the young man gently by the arm, pushing aside the gauzy iridescent streamers that hung from the chandeliers, leading him away deeper into the dance floor.

“Thank you for that,” the young man said, once they were safely tucked into the crowd.

“Pas de quoi! May I have the honor of this dance?” the masked savior offered with a smile.

The laughter had faded away now, the couples’ gazes safely returned to their partners, replaced by the soothing sound of music.

“Sure. Why not,” came the reply. He had no memory what so ever of what he was doing at this party, or how he had even come to be here, so enjoying a dance or seemed to be the best option at the moment. It was the least he could do.

The taller man was certainly an apt dancer, never a move out of time with the music. He led impeccably, causing the younger man to feel as if this was a performance that the two had been practicing together for weeks, though they had only just met.

It was hard to tell completely due to the mask, but he had the distinct impression that the man must be quite handsome, based on the jaw line and exposed cheek bone alone.

“I’m so relieved that I was able to find you. You had me so worried all this time,” the stranger continued to smile down at him fondly.

“Have we met?” the young man asked in confusion, but the music had suddenly increased in volume, swallowing any attempts at speech.

As the music swelled, the other dancers in the room became more frenzied, twirling like whirligig seed pods falling from maples.

The maskless man looked up at his partner with a questioning expression, as if to ask why their pace had remained the same amidst the other rapidly quickening couples.

Before any sort of response could come, a woman who been dancing nearby broke away from her partner, crimson dress flowing like an open wound. Her sweet smile was in sharp contrast with the force of her action she grabbed the younger man’s arm, tearing him away from his own partner.

Taken aback by the sudden roughness of her action, he tried to pull away, but woman’s grip was far too tight. He tried to turn and look to the masked man for help, but he had vanished into the crowd.

Before he knew it, the woman was dancing with him, whirling him about like a child with a new doll. She set a pace that was erratic and difficult to predict.

Once it became clear that he wasn’t going to be able to catch sight of his previous partner, his glance finally settled on the woman. Her hair was similar in color to the man’s but there was a slightly different air about her. She snickered to herself each time he missed the footing, causing him to wonder if she had joined in the ruckus of laughter from earlier. A pair of tufted antennae, like those of a moth, sprouted from the top of her mask. What he assumed was meant to be the proboscis, pointed downward over her nose, needle sharp,  like a beak.

After what seemed to be an eternity, the song ended and the woman relinquished her grasp, shoving him toward the crowd with a wicked grin, but not before the sharp point of her mask had grazed his cheek. She gave a playful wave before disappearing into the crowd as well.

He attempted to reorient himself, but somehow, there seemed to be many more dancers than before. The scene was claustrophobic. They pressed in from all directions, bumping and jostling. He felt something damp trickling down his cheek as he pushed by. He wasn’t sure the exact reason, but he knew that he needed to find the man from before.

As he shoved past yet another couple, he felt his arm being snagged once again.

A man and a woman, both clad in moth masks like that of the purple haired woman, had ceased their dancing, having found something much more interesting to occupy themselves. The man held him by the arm as the woman leaned in, face barely an inch from his own. She closed her eyes, inhaling near his bloodied cheek, grinning delightedly before opening her opening her mouth wide.

The young man finally wrestled himself away from the two. He attempted to run as best he could, but ghouls were now grabbing for him from all directions, pulling and tugging at his clothing and hair. Everywhere he looked, the diverse masks from eariler were gone, all replaced now with the same moth-like design.

During his search for the man in the moon mask, he been headed toward the far mirrored wall rather than the door, which had clearly been a grave mistake.

As he tried to escape from the crowd of ghouls, he was drawing nearer and nearer to the mirror. Strangely, the reflection from earlier had changed. There was no longer the man in the toothed mask, but a mild-looking boy with black hair. He was bleeding from the shoulder.

The young man cried out in pain as one of the ghouls chewed delightedly on a chuck of flesh ripped from just below his neck.

The crowd surged now, pressing him against the reflection on the wall. He felt piercing pain in his leg, followed by his side, though it was now impossible to see anything that was happening except for snatches of the suits and gowns baring down on him.

Between the sounds of his yells and screams, came a crackling, like the sound of a person standing on thin ice, then he was swiftly falling backward, shards of the mirror glittering around him in the darkness like metallic confetti, tossed to congratulate him for his failure to escape, failure to reunite with the man who seemed to have known him.

He turned his face upward. The moth-faced party goers were no longer there. In their place stood the man had been searching for. Despite the mask, he was in clear distress. He spoke, but the falling half ghoul couldn’t make out the words through the wind rushing past him…

 

* * *

 

“Sasaki-san? Are you feeling alright?” Mutsuki was studying him with concern from across the breakfast table.

Sasaki blinked. He must have zoned out after serving his young charge. “Oh, I’m fine! I was just wondering whether I should put bananas in your pancakes next time,” he responded cheerfully.

“That sounds…interesting, but are you sure you’ve been sleeping properly? You don’t look very well…”

“Well, now that you mention it," Sasaki considered, "I had an interesting dream last night…”

“Oh? Can you tell me about it?” Mutsuki’s brow’s furrowed, expressing even deeper concern now than he’d shown originally. It was probably best to not burden him with unnecessary troubles before a mission.

“It’s too long to explain right now. If you don’t mind, can you go get the rest of your squad? I think they’re upstairs, trying to wake up Yonebayashi. Tell them it’s time to go.”

_Time to… go...?_

After Mutsuki left, Sasaki felt a sudden spark of remembrance. What was it the man in the dream had said, right before Sasaki had woken up? He hadn’t been able to hear the words then, but somehow or other, now he knew.

_“Would you please not go?”_

_The end_

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading my last fic of 2014!  
> Shameless plug, but I actually wrote another Tsukikane earlier in the month for the Yuletide exchange. By the time it was revealed, it got kind of buried under more recent fics so it was pretty easy to miss. I actually think it came out much better than this story. If you have the chance, please [check it out!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2804960)  
> 


End file.
